


Tenth Time

by Laylah



Category: Last Remnant
Genre: M/M, Sex Pollen, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You smell intoxicating," Torgal says, and his voice has this growling rasp to it that's about equal parts hot and terrifying. "What did you do?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tenth Time

Nine times out of ten, when Rush calls out Mr. Diggs for help, it goes just fine. But there's always that tenth time.

Sure, he still _finds_ stuff, but Rush can't look too close to see what it is -- there was some kind of pocket of weird liquid in the rock face, and Rush stumbles back soaked by the stuff. "Oh, man," he says, wiping his face. When he squints through it enough to see, it turns out that all Mr. Diggs found was more of same reddish ore they've been digging up all over the place around here. Totally not worth getting a face full of weird-smelling goo.

And then he turns around to head back to the others and Torgal is _right there_. "Whoa," Rush says, stumbling back a little. "Don't sneak up on people like that!"

Torgal gives him this really freaked out stare. "Rush," he says. "What have you done?"

"What?" Rush says. "I don't know what you're talking -- whoa, hey," he adds, as Torgal backs him up against the wall and pins him there, leaning down to rub his cheek against Rush's. "What gives?"

"You smell intoxicating," Torgal says, and his voice has this growling rasp to it that's about equal parts hot and terrifying. "What did you do?" He licks Rush's face, all his hands pulling at Rush's clothes.

"Nothing!" Rush says. "I mean, I just got slimed by something Mr. Diggs was going after, but -- oh. Damn. It's the smell of that stuff, huh?" He's trying to intercept Torgal's hands and keep them from actually tearing anything off him, but Torgal's got twice as many hands as he does and it's kind of a losing battle.

"It must be," Torgal says, and his voice just keeps getting more growly -- like he's trying to keep himself under control and it's not going so great. "You are -- not generally anywhere near this appealing to me."

Rush snorts. They're both more into Dave, Torgal means, but of course he can't just say so. "Here, look," Rush says, "if you'll just let me up, I'll go wash this off, and --"

"I _can't_," Torgal says, his ears flattening. "I'm trying to let go right now."

"Oh," Rush says, because Torgal's still pawing at him pretty enthusiastically. He tries to think. When monsters go all weird on him because of something like this, usually a fight will change their minds, but there's no way he wants to fight Torgal if he can help it. But maybe -- he reaches for the fastenings of Torgal's uniform.

"What do you think you'rrrrrr," Torgal says, and Rush hopes that noise is supposed to be a purr, not a growl.

"Trying to help," he says. Torgal's hips rock toward his hands, making it tricky. "If you can't just stop, then let me take care of it."

Torgal makes the noise again, rubbing his face against Rush's hair, and Rush figures he'll have to take that for a yes. He tugs Torgal's uniform open and reaches in with both hands -- Torgal's cock is as thick as his wrist and long enough for him to get both hands around it, easy. He barely has to stroke, either, because Torgal's too worked up to hold still. He thrusts into Rush's hands, holding on tight so his claws prick through Rush's clothes. It's fast and rough, and Rush wonders if Torgal always likes it like that or if the stuff's just making him hurry.

It's kind of hot, actually, but Rush knows better than to say so. Torgal feels good, though, warm and muscular, and probably if he were a little more in control of himself he'd be able to make a guy feel awesome with all those hands. Rush nuzzles at his throat, feeling how sleek the fur is there, and Torgal makes more rumbling hungry sounds.

When he comes, all Torgal's hands clench tight, so his grip almost hurts, and he bares his teeth in a snarl. There's a lot of it, too, all over Rush's gloves.

"Go," Torgal growls at him. "Go wash yourself _now_, so that doesn't happen again."

"Right," Rush says, ducking out of Torgal's grip and starting down toward the little stream at the bottom of the next hill. He'll have to remember that spot's there, though, and he can't help wondering -- would that stuff work on a yama, too?


End file.
